


With You, I'm Safe

by only_freakin_donuts



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: 1880s prostitution, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Prostitution, it isn't smutty, where can I find a Rufus for myself??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 20:36:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17029590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/only_freakin_donuts/pseuds/only_freakin_donuts
Summary: Jiya and Rufus have a talk about her time in the 1880s, and her discomfort upon their reunion.





	With You, I'm Safe

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [These Days of Dust](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15760944) by [future_fangirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/future_fangirl/pseuds/future_fangirl). 



> Please note: I said no warnings apply and technically none of those ones do, but there is discussion about sex work/prostitution, so keep that in mind and be mature about it as well. If this will be either a trigger or a moral dilemma for you, I suggest sitting this one out.
> 
> Inspired by an early chapter of These Days Of Dust by llmarmalade, Jiya said she didn't support herself through prostitution in the 1880s cause she felt the team would judge her and look down upon her if she had. It got me thinking about that, and what if she was? How would Rufus react? (Now that I'm done exams I get to binge read the rest of Days Of Dust and I'm excited!!) 
> 
> Stigma is toxic, y'all, that's about all I have to say. Prostitution/sex worker stigma included.

His hands slid up her thighs, his fingers reaching under her panties…

And that was it, she bolted. Back against the headboard, suddenly, knees pulled up to her chest, as if she was afraid for him to touch her.

Because a part of her was.

She’d wanted him to touch her like that, to want her like that, for years– she’d longed for his touch, his presence, his closeness, for years. And now that it was right here, his hands were on her… she was afraid. 

“Did I hurt you?” Rufus asks, taken aback. He thought it was his fault, her avoidance, her fear. He doesn’t know to go closer to her or stay right here, he doesn’t know what she’d want right now. She’s spent so long being able to comfort herself and get herself through hard moments without any help from him, did she want him to comfort her anymore?  
“No,” she answers, a bit too sharply. “It wasn’t you. It… it wasn’t you.”

When he sees that she’s crying, he makes the decision to move closer, settling in beside her. He didn’t ask her to talk, he didn’t ask for anything, not even reassurance– he just held her close and let her cry quietly for a moment. This touch, this was innocent touch, friendly comfort with no ill intention, not to mention backed by intimacy and real love. This was nothing to harbour ill feelings against. This was what she wanted. So why did she not want it at all now? 

“I worked as a prostitute,” she finally tells him, barely above a whisper. “When I was in the 1880s. I was a prostitute.”  
He nods, she feels the motion. A part of her wants to see the look on his face, a bigger part of her is overwhelmingly glad that she can’t. She can’t fail to forget a face she never saw.  
“That’s okay,” he tells her after a moment. “You did what you had to do, I know that. It doesn’t bother me.”  
“It bothers me,” she tells him. “I’m not ashamed of what I was but I’m not proud of it either. I’m not proud of some of the things I had to do, I don’t feel good about it… about myself.”  
“That is not a reflection of who you are,” Rufus reinforces. “If anything, it reflects that you made a living for yourself. You were tough and you were strong– you are tough and strong.”  
“It left me with money, sure,” she says. “It left me feeling like you wouldn’t want me– that no one would. I’ve done a lot of gross things with a lot of gross men. They’ve put their hands all over me, and their… it made me dirty, Rufus.” 

“You are not dirty,” he tells her, moving her off his chest now so he can look her in the eyes, bring his point home. “You are not what you did. And what you did wasn’t necessarily gross–”  
“It was gross,” she contends. “And it was disloyal. I essentially cheated on you, God knows how many times. That’s what makes me feel like a whore.”  
“You were doing what you had to do,” he says again. “You were doing it to save me, too. Jiya, you were there in the 1880s for me. I’m the reason we’re even having this discussion. I’m not going to blame you for anything you did to survive that time, not at all. And I absolutely don’t think any less of you because of anything you did. I don’t think you’re dirty, I don’t think you’re disloyal or a whore by any means. I think you’re noble, and beautiful, and the best girlfriend I could’ve ever asked for.” He leans in and kisses her forehead. “And I will keep telling you that, even if you don’t believe it.”  
She smiles, for the first time tonight, truly.

“If you don’t want to be intimate, that’s fine,” he tells her, his fingers lightly tugging a front piece of her hair. She’d missed that quirk of his, it always made her feel better. “We don’t have to do anything you aren’t ready for.”  
“Thank you,” she tells him sincerely, her eyes drifting downwards bashfully. “Thank you for understanding. I made this conversation out to be a lot scarier in my head… I forgot you were the most understanding guy in history.”  
He chuckles. “I don’t know about that,” he says, “But, I promise I would never judge you, for anything. Not even your bad taste in movies.”  
Time hadn’t changed her that much, Rufus’ mockery of her media choices could still draw a cute little grin out of her. “Watch one with me?” she asks.  
“Of course,” he agrees. Soon after, they’re settle into bed with his laptop– and he was being the big spoon tonight, his girlfriend needed the cuddles. 

“I missed you,” Jiya whispers. This is home, in bed with Rufus, safe and warm– the most comfortable she’s been in years. “I’m glad I’m home.”  
“I’m glad you’re home too. It wasn’t home without you.”


End file.
